


Like you're running out of time

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother Feels, Gen, Peredhil feels, Role Reversal AU, The one where Elros and Elrond's choices are switched, Tragedy, elf!Elros, mortal!Elrond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 05:42:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6740887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don’t die” he blurted out, his words muffled in Elrond’s hair. “Please. Not yet at least.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like you're running out of time

“Elros, are you _sure_ you want this?” Elrond clasped Elros’ hands earnestly in his own as the salt wind blew lifted their hair, the light dancing in bright ripples on the blue waters of the harbour. 

Elros made an incredulous sound. “ _You’re_ asking _me_ that?”

Elrond smiled, a little sadly. “You know there’s no other choice for me. I’m not brave like you, brother, I don’t have it in me to build a kingdom that will last until the world fades. I’ve made my choice, and I won’t go back on it.”

“Not brave?” said Elros, with a slight raised eyebrow. “In that case you must be going by a different definition of bravery than the one I know.”

Elrond laughed, and Elros tried not to look for crows-feet at the corners of his eyes. _No, not yet; he was still young. But one day, too soon_ …

“Clearly” said Elrond, breaking into Elros’ thoughts. “Unfortunately for you, _my_ definitions come straight from the dictionary, which I was reading while you were out sulking or fighting people or having tense glaring contests with Maedhros. Or however you spent our childhood.”

“You read the dictionary?” Elros grinned, and suddenly they were children again, teasing each other as they waited for Maglor to read them the day’s lesson. “You insufferable egghead. Get a life.” He winced internally at this last, wishing he could have used a different phrasing.

If Elrond had noticed, however, he did not give any sign of it. “Oh, I’m an egghead am I? You weren’t singing that tune when we were children and I was letting you copy my lessons when you forgot to do yours.”

“Are you going to hold that against me my whole life?”

This time Elrond _did_ hesitate, if only for the slightest instant. Then he grinned broadly. “You can bet on it.”

Elros laughed. He’d miss this, he suddenly realised. Just being with his brother, the only person who had always been there. He looked back at Elrond, who had also gone quiet. 

“It’ll be time for you to go soon” said Elrond, after a while. “Once you’ve built your kingdom, Elros, let me know, I want to come and visit you in your palace!”

“Are you _certain_ you don’t want to come with me? It could be us together, ruling side by side and doing right by our people. They’re mortal, like… like you, and you could…” he felt his voice begin to choke. “I don’t know, you could advise on - ”

“Elros.” Elrond laid a hand on his arm. “We’ve been through this. Ereinion Gil-galad needs me, and I am honoured to serve. Just like the men of the house of Hador served the kings of the house of Fingolfin of old! It’s a time-honoured tradition, and I am proud to see it through. And this new kingdom… it’s not for me. It will be _yours_. Your children will be half-elven, but they’ll be half-mortal too, and they’ll understand well enough to advise you. Besides, your people clearly love you, Elros. You don’t need me around, spoiling your royal charisma.”

Elros frowned. “Don’t say that.”

“Sorry” said Elrond. “But the fact remains. I’ve made my choice, and so have you.”

A shout from the sailors on the ship. Elros nodded silently, letting his head drop and then looking up and out to sea. “It’s time to go, isn’t it?”

Elrond nodded, and his eyes sparkled a little with tears. “Yes. Yes it is. But let me ask you one thing, brother.”

“Anything.”

“ _Live_. Live a thousand lives of men, endure until the breaking of the world. Even though you know that I will fade and die, do not count the years, for I will not be.”

“Yes you will be.”

Elrond inclined his head in amused acknowledgement. “Alright, you know me too well. But my point still stands. Elros, you were always the brave one. Always my… my big brother, even though we were only born minutes apart. You were always the… the one person who was strong, who endured. Please… be that. Be that for all your people.”

Elros nodded, leaning his forehead towards Elrond’s. _They had always been such perfect mirror images of each other, before_ … “I promise. And you…” now that it came to it, all the words he had prepared seemed to have fled. _Well, it was always Elrond who was better with words_. “Elrond…” he clasped his brother in a tight hug, on impulse, feeling the rhythm of Elrond’s heart against his own, conscious of each beat. “Don’t die” he blurted out, his words muffled in Elrond’s hair. “ _Please_. Not yet at least.”

Elrond’s arms went around him, hugging him back, and Elros knew without having to see his face that he was smiling. “I promise.”

* * *

The court of Gil-galad would be a beautiful place in any other circumstances, Elros thought, as a servant conducted him through the elegant, vaulted corridor, sunlight spilling coloured patches onto the stone floor through the fairly-wrought stained glass windows. As it was, he could hardly appreciate the architecture; he was here for a purpose, for something he had been dreading for what was now the greater part of his life. 

 _Not that it would the greater part forever. His life would go on, and on and on, stretching out into a distant eternity spent with the things he had made in this world, and with the memories of all that he had lost_. 

He shook his head to clear it, nodding to the servant, who had stopped in front of an ornately carved wooden door. 

He took a deep breath, before knocking. 

“Come in” came a muffled voice a moment later, like his brother’s and yet unlike.

Elros’ face twisted as he opened the door, unsure of what to expect. He had seen others die, of course he had; most of his own people were mortal. He had been at the bedside of his wife when she had died, an event that had shaken him to the very roots of his heart. 

But this was _Elrond_. 

Elrond had _chosen_ this. 

This could have been what Elros himself had chosen, in a different life, a different world. 

“Elros?”

The voice came to him, as he stood by the door, separated from the bed by a delicate white curtain which allowed the light through. And there _was_ light on the other side of it, spilling in from a window, silhouetting a figure propped up in bed. 

“Elros, is that you?”

_(“Elros, you were always the brave one.”)_

“Yes” he said shakily, stepping forward and drawing aside the curtain. “Yes, it’s me.” 

Elrond lay on the bed, the sunshine spilling onto his upturned face. He looked _old_ , his skin lined and pitted and shrunken, but somehow translucent as the curtain behind him in the daylight. His hair was pure white, a bright nimbus about his head.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it in time” said Elrond, his voice a little cracked, but still like a knife in Elros’ heart after all these years. “I’m glad you did.”

Elros took his brother’s hand, tentatively; his fingers seemed so delicate, as though his fragile bones could snap at the slightest pressure. “Of course. I came as soon as the storm passed and I could make the voyage.” In truth, he had been on the point of taking a rowboat and making the perilous crossing of the stormy sea himself by the time the clouds had finally parted. 

“You got my letter, about my papers and records?”

Elros nodded. “They’re already on their way to be copied, and the originals will be stored in the Great Library of Armenelos. It’s the safest place for them, and the scholars of the future will pore over the records you’ve made of this era, your unique insight into the campaigns and wars of High King Gil-galad, and your research into the First Age and our family. Your words will live on in history, I’ll make certain of it if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Thank you.” Elrond nodded, letting out a quiet sigh of relief, immediately followed by a cough. 

Elros started in alarm at that, but Elrond only chuckled. “Ha! You should see your face. Like a frightened rabbit. I’m not going to die _just_ yet.”

 _Well, do you blame me?_ Elros wanted to say. “Sorry” he murmured instead. 

“Well, I’m glad I got to hear you apologise at least once before the end. It might be the first time ever.”

Elros smiled ruefully. “You haven’t changed, little brother.”

“Neither have you.”

They fell into silence for a little while longer. Elrond’s hand in his felt warm, and Elros could still feel the pulse beating beneath the skin, which felt as dry and fragile as crinkled paper. 

“How will I go on without you?” he burst out at last, unable to contain himself. “I…” he clenched his teeth. “I never wanted to leave you all alone, I never wanted you to have to live without me, and so I chose…” he gestured at himself. “This. But then you…” he covered his face, bowing his head “…without you in this world, even if you’re far away… when you’re just… _gone_ , I don’t know what I’ll do…”

Elrond tilted his head. “They say that the spirits of the firstborn and the secondborn will meet once more at the ending of the world.”

“Oh, what do _they_ know?” snapped Elros, already ashamed of his behaviour. “No one knows, really. They’re all just guessing, and choosing to believe it because it hurts less.”

Elrond shrugged. “I must say, I can…” he coughed once more, his voice already growing weaker. “…I can see the value in choosing to believe something because it hurts less.”

Elros’ face twisted. _I almost envy you, Elrond, to be able to just choose to believe something like that_. “Still” he said. “Even that’s a long time to wait.”

Elrond smiled, sadly. “Yes.” His voice was heavy. “Yes, it is. And… I’m sorry.”

Elros shook his head, looking his brother in the eye. “Don’t be. You made your choice, and I made mine. There’s no sense in thinking about what might have been, and forgetting to live with what is.”

Elrond nodded. “Now that sounds more like something you would say.”

Another silence, stretching out as the sun filtered down onto them, moving ever across the sky. 

“Elros” said Elrond, his eyes half closed against the bright light. “It won’t be long now.” He stilled Elros’ protest with a look. “Can I ask a favour?”

“Anything.”

“Will… will you stay here with me? Until the very end?”

Elros nodded, clasping Elros’ hand in his own, feeling the tears running down his cheeks but making no move to wipe them away. “Of course. Until the very end. I’ll be right here, I promise.”

 _After all_ , Elros thought, _he had all the time in the world._

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. An anon on Tumblr asked me what would happen if Elros chose immortality. Of course, I took this in the most upsetting possible role-reversal AU direction.
> 
> 2\. It was fun trying to think about how this might come about with respect to each of their personalities and motivations in this situation whilst still trying to keep them in character, as so much of what I headcanon about their personalities is based on their choices.
> 
> 3\. ...and when I say "fun" I of course mean "absolutely heart-shredding"
> 
> 4\. How does Númenor even work in this AU? What happens if its king is immortal? ...I leave it to the reader to figure out.


End file.
